Firsts
by mieh
Summary: Little glimpses into established Darvey and their firsts.


**AN: we now live in a established Darvey world and since all my dreams have come true I didn't think I would be writing any fics. But because these two won't leave me alone, here's a little something, just in time for 901 and the season of happiness they deserve.**

**As always, can't thank Blue enough for betaing and for being the best thing about fanfiction writing.**

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She's been here so many times over the years, even if mostly brief visits. Now she's coming inside with him, his hand resting on the small of her back, a huge grin on his face instead of the surprise she would always find in his expression every other time she'd showed up there (or he'd showed up, to find her waiting for him - perks of having her own key).

Still, this thing between them, this nameless thing already marked as forever, is so new she can't really shake the agitation out of her when they go to his apartment for the first time.

He pulls her between himself and the door as soon as he closes it, moving forward to press his body and mouth against her. It's all sexy and daring but somewhat of an undertaking because apparently he can't seem to stop smiling.

She chuckles against his mouth. "You're not even gonna let me in?"

His thumb runs along her jawline and down her throat as he says, "I missed you today," and she doesn't miss the fact that his eyes don't leave her lips.

"I told you this wouldn't work," he adds and she's a bit confused because her mind had just drifted off to the feel of his hands grazing the side of her breast on its way down her body.

"What wouldn't?" she manages.

"Yesterday we snuck out in the middle of the afternoon. You said we had to be able to make it the entire day. I told you it wouldn't work."

She was going to laugh, but his hands descend to her ass as he deepens their kiss and the only sound that comes out of her is a quietiest moan escaping from the back of her throat.

"Wai-no," she pushes him away slightly. "I wanna make it past the door."

"We didn't at your place," he argues and she rolls her eyes but he lets her go and follows as she walks further inside the apartment, guided by the sway of her hips.

She stops in the center of the living room, looking around.

"What?" he frowns at the mischievous glint in her eyes, a smirk turning the corners of his lips.

"Well, you have to, you know, seduce me."

He laughs and a thumb points back to the door as he says, "That's what I was doing back there."

Standing there in her perfect posture, her eyebrows go up in a challenge he promptly takes.

"Okay… you got it." The raspy assertiveness in his voice and the way he looks at her makes a shiver run down her back and she knows she actually doesn't need to be any more seduced at all, but she'll have her fun.

He's quick to set the mood, going straight to the record player and playing something low in the background. Then he lights up the fireplace and brings her a drink and it's not that she's surprised but, wow, he's good.

"Are you seduced yet?" he jokes, lifting his brows at her and she giggles.

He leans in and kisses her. It's unhurried and deliberate, mouth claiming hers just because he can, because he now gets to kiss her whenever he pleases and the realization has been blowing his mind for the past couple days.

He sucks on her bottom lip. He's quickly growing as familiar with the taste of her mouth as he's always been with all the rest of her.

Wrapped in his arms, she sips on the drink and appreciates the citylight view from within the dim lit apartment as he kisses her neck and tells her something ridiculous that makes her laugh and lean back into his chest and when a particularly smooth track comes up on the record he takes her hand, spins her around and dances slow with her, hands traveling up and down the sides of her body as he sways her in place.

So yeah. She'd say she's very much seduced.

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Soon she's too far gone to keep playing him.

His lips graze the soft skin of her inner thigh, hands under her skirt, bunching it up to find space between her legs, he looks up at her, her back against the armrest of the couch, the light from the fireplace behind her lighting her hair up in bright red flames. She reaches and runs her fingers through his hair.

"I want you in my bed," he breathes out low against her skin, softly biting on her flesh and she tugs on his hair as an answer.

His hands slide down the expanse of her legs to push her heels off before they both get up, arms and tongues tangling around each other as they walk to the bedroom.

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He undresses her slowly. Enjoys her tease as she pulls the knot of his tie and slides it off his neck. She takes the few steps back into his bed followed by his own body, an inch away, watching her closely and undoing his belt.

When she sinks into the mattress his body fits between her legs and it suddenly sinks into him how absurd the need to have her in his house for the first time was when she's always been home to him.

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They're at his office and if they were sentimental about it, the setting actually couldn't have been more perfect.

Before, when life was upside down and they were struggling with a careful distance between them, they had stopped doing this, spending time together just because they craved it. Wary of the closeness and pretending to forget about all the things they'd always loved, mainly each other's presence.

But now their world was back on its feet and they could allow themselves to just be. They're hungry and working late and it's Harvey who suggests they order from that shitty Thai place she loves - as it often used to be - just for a nostalgic kick.

She feels the affection tightening her insides and smiles open and free and she shakes her head at the knowing, teasing one on his lips.

They are them again. The ones they'd always been meeting the ones they were always supposed to be.

It's an entirely ordinary night. The kind they'd had in the hundreds, working together, side by side. But he catches himself staring at her. She's making a note on a piece of paper, hair falling softly over her shoulder.

He is entirely aware this had happened hundreds of times before. The way his mind drifts off to her and he's not thinking of anything in particular but catches himself full of her, streaming in his bones, warming up something inside.

He used to shake it off, breathe in the uninvited smile on his face at the sight of her and go on with life, with work.

The sound of his voice catches her entirely by surprise, breaking the silence in a tone so low he should've been whispering in her ear when he says he loves her.

I love you. Plain and simple and honest.

Her eyes snap in his direction in a way that makes his smile spread wider because one of the greatest joys of his life is catching Donna off guard.

It's not the first time he says it, not really. He's been saying it for years in a tangle of lingering looks and soft smiles and fierce protection, but this time, this time she actually listens.

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She yelled at him. He yelled back and said half a dozen things that he either didn't mean or that could've been phrased better and made her twice as angry, but she got the last word, as she often did, walked away and left him fuming.

He tried to defend her, defend them, and to hell with Faye Richardson and whatever bullshit she's trying to push down their throats for the day. But apparently this had been the wrong move, according to Donna.

She left without him tonight for the first time and, yeah, it does occur to him to just go home and sulk but lately, more so than ever before, he's acutely aware of how much time they've already lost.

He's known this before, when the thought of the enormous maybe they were would seep into his mind and heart in the middle of the night and he would find himself grieving the loss of time, the loss of someone he never actually had but that had all of him.

But now, knowing exactly what they have, the thought is absolutely unbearable.

So he's pissed off as hell and the way he bangs on her door makes that perfectly clear. But he still bangs on her door.

It's already so late and when she opens she's wearing a gray shirt he'd left at her place from the weekend. That softens something inside of him he didn't plan on having soften quite so soon.

"You're ridiculous," he boldly points, knowing she'll know he means the clothes, not the fight, otherwise he'd be in bigger trouble.

She doesn't ask what he's doing there, doesn't let her relief show, doesn't refute the ridiculousness of her outfit, which for once she actually agrees.

When he pulls the shirt over her head, his mouth grazing her ear as he hoarsely says, "You don't need this anymore, I'm here now," she also doesn't give a fuck about how mad he makes her. They're not wasting time being apart.

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It happens exactly sixteen nights after the one he showed up at her door.

He's got her hand in his left one while he unlocks the door and they slowly walk inside. Fifty pounds on each foot, the weight of the world on their shoulders. Some days you win and to them those days were more than some. But today they lost.

She sighs, getting down from her heels like taking off an armor.

Being accused of things they both were and weren't guilty of. Watching the firm they've fought so long for fight back at them, punching back hard for every time they acted unethically and recklessly and just plain stupid at its expense. Feeling accusing eyes from partners and convicting words from that woman. Today took a hit on both of them.

She's just gotten under the warm spray of the shower when he joins her. She gives him space beneath the water, plants a soft kiss between his shoulder blades and he washes his face.

He turns around and places his hands on the curve of her neck. Firm and soft, they rub the soap on her shoulders until it lathers up, until he feels the heavy load of the day leave her muscles, until the corners of her mouth curve up the tiniest bit and he smiles back, leaning down to press his lips against hers while slowly spinning her in place to wash away the bubbles. She rests her head on his shoulder, careful not to let her hair get wet as he runs his fingers along with the stream of water down her back.

They breathe in together, the fresh minty scent of the soap she spreads around his chest, over his shoulders, getting on the tips of her toes to try and reach his back, his hands lightly landing on her waist steadying her.

He gets them two glasses of wine while she finishes her night routine. They seem to be having wine more often now, as opposed to all the scotch they usually had. Even on days like this one, life's not as hard anymore. It's softer, sweeter. So they have wine, tangled up on the couch. He likes to run his hand down her calves, circle her ankle, and pull her leg to rest on top of his when he sits beside her.

There's a sort of ease dealing with everyday life knowing even the hardest days will be followed by their nights.

When they lay under the covers, she wraps her arms around his body, her leg sliding between both of his. She leaves a kiss on the curve of his neck and he's pretty sure she smells him or breathes him in or whatever before she nuzzles into his back.

He finds her hands, locks his fingers with hers and drifts off.

It's the first time they fall asleep together without having sex.

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It's no surprise that with them being them and life being the mess it is, they would make it a month into their relationship without having an actual date. But it's their anniversary and though they never thought they were one of those people that celebrate their niece's third grade graduation like it was the moon landing, they both want to celebrate the day properly. Sappy as it is, it does feel pretty groundbreaking - one small step for a man, one life changing leap into each other's arms.

Harvey insists on pulling all the stops. He makes the reservations, but won't tell her where to. Picks her up at home, instead of going straight from work. She mocks him for it but when she walks out into the street and sees Harvey standing there beside the car, pulling a bouquet of pink lilies from behind his back, a smug smile on his face, she all but melts.

It's when they're halfway through their meal, laughing and talking and sharing deeply soft looks into each other's eyes, that it suddenly dawns on her. This is no first at all.

She drops her cluttlery with a clink, awarding a quizzical look from him at her wide eyed expression.

"You realize we've done this before, right?" she asks.

"What do you mean?"

"You have picked me up and taken me out before. We've been to restaurants and plays and shopping and baseball matches together. Even the flowers and the eye sex! We've done all of this before, Harvey!"

He chuckles at the eye sex mention and the fact that she sounds genuinely astonished by her own realization.

"So what you're telling me is," he asks slowly, unable to disguise the amusement in his tone, "We've been dating all along?"

She blinks back in shock and Harvey laughs and sips on his wine and enjoys her unsettlement.

"Hey, I'm serious," she says, wanting to throw her napkin at his face.

"I know you are. And yeah, I guess we have." He shrugs, resting back into his seat and giving her a tight lipped smile.

The change immediately registers. She cocks her head to the side, questioning his sudden mood switch from flat out laughing at her to crawling back into himself.

"I'm glad we did," he answer to her silent question. "You know, had all these dates we didn't know we were having. I don't like thinking we spent all this time not being together."

She gets the feeling. Man... she really does. But the truth is, if it's led them to where they are right now, she's glad for every single turn in the road that has taught them the way to each other's arms.

"But we didn't," she answers softly. "We have thirteen years of history together. And the fact this is probably our two hundredth date instead of our first one just proves it. We've always been right here, by each other's side."

"I know. I just wish every one of those two hundred dates had ended with me kissing you."

"I'd probably get really pissed at you," she jokes and shares the blame all in one sentence.

He shakes his head slowly, her favorite smirk reappearing on his mouth, smug as only Harvey could be. "You'd have kissed me back."

She rolls her eyes in amusement, but can't bring herself to deny the undeniable so all she says is, "You didn't know that."

"I didn't." He agrees because it's the whole reason he _hadn't_ kissed her. "But I know that now."

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When their date is over and he takes her to her doorstep, he kisses her before she lets them in, pressing her body against the closed door and holding her face in his hands. It's not their first date, nor their first kiss, but it's the first time they have everything.

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End file.
